


Letterbox

by thewightknight



Series: The Meetcute Collection [11]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Reunions, penpals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Ben had a shoebox of letters. He kept them in order, the dates he’d received them on written in the bottom left corner of each envelope. The handwriting, both on the envelopes and on the pages inside of them, progressed from childhood scrawl to neat print. They also got progressively thinner as the years passed, and less frequent. He’d reread the earliest ones the most, some of them so much he’d had to use scotch tape to hold them together at the creases. As they’d gotten older, they’d run out of things to say to each other, and the final letters consisted of only a few paragraphs, stilted language almost painful for him to read.





	Letterbox

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt from[ this post](https://thewightknight.tumblr.com/post/159312526023/here-have-some-aus-as-if-there-arent-enough-on):  
>  _“my parents moved me halfway across the world when we were twelve and before that we were best friends but now i’m back and moving in across the hall from you so hi?” au_

Ben had a shoebox of letters. He kept them in order, the dates he’d received them on written in the bottom left corner of each envelope. The handwriting, both on the envelopes and on the pages inside of them, progressed from childhood scrawl to neat print. They also got progressively thinner as the years passed, and less frequent. He’d reread the earliest ones the most, some of them so much he’d had to use scotch tape to hold them together at the creases. As they’d gotten older, they’d run out of things to say to each other, and the final letters consisted of only a few paragraphs, stilted language almost painful for him to read.

Fifteen years ago, he’d sat on the porch swing with Hux, watching men in overalls load boxes and furniture into a shipping crate.

“I wish you weren’t going,” he blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I wish I was staying too. I don’t want to go back,” Hux admitted.

“I’ll write you. Every week,” he promised.

“I’ll write back. And who knows? Maybe we’ll come back someday.” Hux’s father had moved them here while he oversaw overseas operations for the company he’d worked for. He’d traveled up and down the east coast, visiting manufacturing plants and making “recommendations” on changes that usually resulted employee turnovers and/or plant closures. In two and a half years, he’d managed to bring the that remained facilities up to his employer’s exacting standards, so they’d called him home again.

“And it’s just an ocean between us, right?” he’d joked, already missing Hux even though they were sitting so close together he could feel the heat from Hux’s body warming his thigh.

It had been two years since the last letter. He’d sent Hux his forwarding address when he moved but had never received a response. He fingered the last card he’d received, a Christmas card with a ginger cat sporting a Santa hat on the front. The cat looked disgruntled, an expression on its face similar one he remembered from Hux whenever he’d said something particularly ridiculous.

 _Seasons’ greetings from Hux and Millicent_ was handwritten on the inside of the card. Nothing else. It seemed Hux had decided to finally let go. He needed to do the same.

On his way out to the grocery store he stopped in the mailroom on the ground floor of his building. He hadn’t checked his box in a couple of days and he found it stuffed to capacity. The landlord had put a recycling bin in the room, so he leaned up against the wall, sorting through it and chucking circular after circular. Sorting through all of it he found only three things worth saving – two bills and one oversized, lumpy envelope addressed to him in his father’s almost illegible scrawl.

Sticking the bills under his arm, he tore the end off the of the one from Han, scowling as he tried to decipher the note.

 

_Ben,_

_Your mom and I haven’t been home in a while, so I don’t know how long ago this arrived. He still has your old address. Might want to fix that._

_Oh, and call your mother sometime. When she worries about you she takes it out on me._

 

Tipping the envelope upside down, he caught the letter-sized envelope as it slid out. He recognized the handwriting, his old apartment address spelled out in an oh so familiar hand. He’d used his parents’ house as a forwarding address whenever he moved, so it had gotten rerouted there instead of going back to the sender.

Before he could open it, he heard a crash from the front door, followed by a string of colorful language in an accent that made his heart clench.

It had to be a coincidence that the man who’d just scattered a hand truck load of boxes had brilliant red hair and a lilting voice, to match the memory of the boy whose letter he now held in his hand.

The man continued to swear as he put the boxes back on the hand truck. Realizing he’d been staring, Ben shook his head and moved out of the shadow of the doorway.

“Hey, let me give you a hand with that.”

The man looked up, catching his gaze with seagreen eyes, and his jaw dropped.

“Ben?”

He couldn’t believe it. He must be dreaming.

“Jaysus, it is you! You got my letter! How’d you know I’d be moving in today, though? And how’d you get in the building?”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

That part he understood. And then the rest of the words registered.

“Wait. You’re moving in? Here? Like into this building? I didn’t even know you’d moved back to the States.”

Hux shook his head. “Okay, now I’m confused.” That made two of them. “If you didn’t know I’d moved back to the States, how did you know to meet me here?”

“I live here.”

Hux stared at him, jaw agape, for three whole seconds that stretched on for longer than the fifteen years they’d been apart, before he broke into laughter.

“Hello, neighbor.” Kylo couldn’t keep a goofy grin from spreading across his face as they wrestled Hux’s boxes back onto the cart. Looking out through the front doors, he saw a moving van parked in the loading zone. “Got a lot of stuff?”

“Not really, no. Just clothes and some books, and my laptop. I figured I’d buy the rest once I get settled.”

“Okay, let’s get you moved in, then.”

The elevator had decided to cooperate today. It was a wonderful old building but there were a few quirks. He held the doors open for Hux, then slid in behind him.

“What floor?” he asked. He’d climb every flight of stairs every day if he had to, but he hoped Hux wouldn’t be too far away.

“907.”

“No way.”

“Why? What’s yours?”

“910.” They’d be kitty corner across the hall from each other. His cheeks had begun to ache from grinning.

“I can’t believe this. It’s like ….” Hux waved his hands in the air, the skin at the corners of his eyes still crinkling when he smiled.

“It must be fate.”

 “Yeah.”

Who knows how long they’d have stood there grinning at each other like fools if the ding of the elevator hadn’t announced their floor.

“You’re going to want to get some blackout curtains. Your windows face due east. At least you don’t have a corner unit. You’ll stay warmer in the winter where you are.”

It took them only three trips to bring all of Hux’s belongings up. He offered to help unpack, but Hux shook his head.

“There’s no point until I get some furniture.”

The apartment looked bare, with only the stack of boxes against the wall in the living room. No furniture, which meant no bed, and not even a carpet on the hardwood floors.

“You’re not going to sleep on the floor tonight, are you?”

Hux shrugged. “Mattress won’t be delivered until tomorrow. It’s just one night. I’m still young enough for it to be an adventure.”

“No, hey, crash on my sofa instead. If you want to pretend we’re still kids, we can even make a blanket fort.” They’d done that for every sleepover, hanging out in the den of his parents’ house, with a wind-up camping lantern and Ben’s radio to keep them company.

“I don’t want to impose?”

“Shut up, dork. Your loser ass is coming to my place.” The words slipped out, the old cheerful insults suddenly hovering on the tip of his tongue again.

“Look who’s talking, Dumbo!” Hux shot back without a moment’s hesitation. “Er, the hair looks good, by the way.”

He’d started growing it out to cover his ears during college, but he and Hux had never included pictures in his letters.

“Um, I’ve got to turn the van in, but the place is only a few blocks away. I can grab us some takeout on the way home if you give me a recommendation.”

“How about I follow you and we’ll pick something up together?”

 “Okay, but I’m buying.”

“This time.” The thought that there would be more times stretched his grin even further. His cheeks would be sore for days.

“It’s so good to see you again, Ben.”

“You too.” He grunted in surprise when Hux surged into him, arms wrapping around his waist. They were of a height now, he realized. He’d towered over Hux when they were kids, but now Hux’s cheek brushed against his. Still skinny as a reed, though. It felt like he could wrap his arms twice around Hux with room to spare. The hug didn’t last long, but there’d be more of these too, so that was okay.

“C’mon, let’s go. Do you like Thai?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing.


End file.
